Chapter Four: Aftermath
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The lyrics I (respectfully) stole belong to Korn and the Smashing Pumpkins. Although I dearly wish otherwise, only the plot belongs to me.
Notes: This is where the story descends into the chaos of a B/S story. I suppose it can be taken as a full story with only three chapters... but I got a positive revue today and so will share the rest of the tale out of desire for more.
"They never tell the truth...and they'll always leave...but not before you love them."
Shocked to his core, Spike turned and ran out of the house, barely remembering to steal a packet of blood from the fridge on the way out. His senses registered the fact that Riley was gone, although his mind nearly missed it. It had only been twenty minutes since he had left the ex-marine to comfort Buffy. Gulping down the blood, he circled the house. Tension evident in his every move, Spike began to pace outside of Buffy's bedroom window. With shaking hands, he lit a cigarette, taking in long drags whilst he frantically paced.
"I can't go back in there." He muttered feverishly as he walked. "She'll stake me for sure. But she said.... she said....no! She wasn't talking about me. She was talking about Riley, she was talking about the great Poof....she wasn't talking about me!" Confusion wracked him as he continued to pace. Soon, Spike's cigarette was nothing but a smoldering filter. He threw it to the ground and drew out another one, thankful that he had just stolen a carton and wouldn't need more for some time. He glanced up at Buffy's window when he heard loud music crash from above. Her window was open.
Ugh!
Why can't I decide, why my feelings I hide
Always screwing with my mind, a thorn in my spine
Oh Sure, it feels fine, wasting all our time
In the back of my mind, a thorn in my spine
"Good choice, luv." Spike muttered, recognizing the song, as he hoisted himself into the tree that served as the Slayer's main path to and from her house. He made himself comfortable on a thick branch, looking in on the activities in Buffy's bedroom. He watched her half dance along to the heavy music as she cleaned up the mess she had created, occasionally wiping at her eyes with bloodied hands when the tears fell again. Surprised, Spike noticed that her mirror had been punched repeatedly and there were multiple bloody-smears across the shattered glass. Buffy was picking up tiny shards of glass from her floor. Many fragile gifts had become victim to her sorrow-filled rage. Spike wondered why she would break things her friends gave her while he watched her sweep up the tiny shards and deposit them unceremoniously into the trashcan.
"Gifts from Riley." He realized aloud, thinking that only Fish-boy would gift the Slayer with useless trinkets of glass. Buffy's head snapped up and she looked out the window, red-rimmed eyes narrowed suspiciously. Spike froze, hoping the shadows covering him would be sufficient to hide him from
the Slayers gaze. Luckily, a breeze took that moment to descend upon the tree, making the branches sway and the leaves rustle. Buffy was placated by this and continued to clean up, her hands still scratched and cut, despite her swift healing ability.
Wait!
See it before my eyes
Why!
Do I run away
Looking all the time, at your face so blind
Feeling uptight, always the same fight
Hey man, now decide, go ahead take your time
Kissing all the time, that thorn in my spine.
"Is there a message here, luv?" Spike thought to himself, his confusion growing. "She wasn't talking about me!"
"No, she was talking about all the men in her life. But you were included." A little voice spoke in the back of Spike's mind.
"Shit. When did I grow a conscious?" Spike muttered, knowing that he had to speak with Buffy. She really did deserve to know the truth. It would hurt her, but she had to know. He stole himself for what would no doubt be his intimate introduction with Mr. Pointy and crept forward on the branch towards Buffy's window.
****
"Listen, Slayer..."
Why are you getting up? Why won't you look me in the eye?
"I came here to let you know about Captain America's little perversion. I did you a favor. That doesn't mean I have to play twenty-questions."
Twenty-questions? I need to know! You started this. You showed me the truth. Now tell me the rest of it!
"Figure out the how's and why's on your own."
On my own? You're...leaving? No, I won't cry. Go the hell away, then!
God, this hurts.
" I don't know what makes people do what they do. I'm a Vampire, not a
bloody psychiatrist."
You're not just a Vampire, Spike. You're more...so much more.
Slam!
Gone. He left. Walked out and shut the door behind him. Turned away from me and shut me out. Pain. This hurts so much. Why do they always leave me? Dad... Angel.... Parker.... Riley... Spike. Nobody cares enough to stay.
Why do I still have a reflection? There's obviously something missing from me. I'm not a whole person. I shouldn't reflect.
Smash.
Now I'm many, tiny people. Seven years bad luck. Oh well. How can it get worse?
"They never tell the truth!"
Smash.
Riley gave me that for our anniversary. So cheap and meaningless. A little angel. Ha. I gave him a Barbie-doll. Dressed like me, complete with cross and stakes and a G.I. Joe to keep her company. It took me a week to make those stakes. But Riley's gone now. Just like the others.
Smash. I look fractured. I feel fractured. It fits.
"And they'll always leave!"
Leave. Leave. Spike left me. I opened up to him. He was kind and gentle. I didn't want him to leave. But I'm Buffy, and so he had to go. They all have to go. It's probably in the Slayers handbook.
Smash.
Happy birthday sweet sixteen. Dad's gift arrived promptly on my birthday. Well, right day, wrong month. Mom called him to remind him. I heard her do it. He forgot, again.
Oh. I'm bleeding.
Blood.
Spike.
"Damn you Spike!"
I can't take this anymore.
"They never tell the truth."
I hurt so deep inside. How can he hurt me so?
"And they'll always leave."
Maybe he was right. Maybe I do crave death. I'll crave anything that will stop the pain.
"But not before you love them."
How long have I been crying? God, look at this place. What a mess. At least Dawn didn't wake up. I'd hate to have to explain this. Have to clean up. But first...ah, music. Mirror to my soul, echo of my thoughts. Good thing I got Faith's CD's when she went comatose. I never would've found this otherwise.
Wait!
You cannot even see your side
Why?
Play yourself out that way
Why?
You and me always hate
Wait!
Weren't you my friend?
What was that sound? Oh, a breeze. Nothing.
Ah, clean. And less memories of Riley. I got a two-for one. Feel better. Ow. Hurt. Oh, my hands. Still bleeding, but no...oh, damn. Glass splinters. This is gonna take some work.
"I can't believe I was...." the tweezers descend. "so stupid!" small tug. Damn, this hurts. "I trusted him." bigger tug. "Ouch!" got one. Small piece of mirror. A small piece of me reflects back. I glance up at the shattered mirror, empathizing. "Idiot." tug. "Human," tug "or Vampire...men are men."
yank. "Shit!"
That hurt. But I'm clean now and so is my room. Everything is perfect. Oh, new song. I guess this is a mix CD. Never heard this one before....
It's you that I adore,
You'll always be my whore.
You'll be a mother to my child
And a child to my heart.
We must never be apart.
We must never be apart.
*****
Spike paused when the sound of Buffy's mutters reached his ear. Her back was to him as she cleaned her wounds, but her voice carried over the music. His eyes grew wide in amazement as he realized that she was talking about him. Spike grew sad, knowing that he had hurt her more deeply than he imagined. She had trusted him, and he let her down. A new song came on her stereo as he continued to contemplate courses of action to express his forgiveness to Buffy and survive. Spike grinned, sensing the irony. He had listened to the same song many times, it had always made him think about Buffy and his feelings for her.
Lovely girl, you're the beauty in my world.
Without you there are no reasons left to find.
And I'll pull your crooked teeth.
You'll be perfect just like me.
You'll be a lover in my bed,
and a God to my head.
We must never be apart.
We must never be apart.
"Hell with it." Spike muttered when he noticed Buffy was listening to the song, not moving. Using every ounce of his stealth, he slipped down the tree branch and through the open window into Buffy's bedroom.
Lovely girl, you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left to die.
Drinking mercury, to the mystery,
Of all that you should ever leave behind,
In time.
He smiled, watching her sway to the music as she listened to it. Spike took a tentative step towards her and froze when she stood and began to dance. Her eyes were closed. Smiling to himself, Spike crept towards her. She turned her back to him again and he took the opportunity to embrace her swiftly, pinning her arms to her side. Her body tensed and her eyes flew open.
"I'm sorry, luv." Spike whispered, his voice rough with emotion, into Buffy's ear. Her body remained tense, hurting him although he didn't quite know why.
"Sorry?" Buffy asked, her voice dripping with loathing.
"Yes, dammit!" Spike spat out, and let Buffy go, injured that she did not believe him. "I'm sorry!"
She stepped out of his embrace swiftly and turned. Once again, he was struck by her beauty. Her gaze was cold, almost devoid of emotion, an extreme contrast to the heat he felt radiating from her. Spike was struck suddenly with the thought that he had never seen the Slayer truly possessed by hatred before. He felt himself grow hard and nearly groaned, knowing that this would be the worst time for her to notice.
"Sorry." Buffy repeated, as though hearing the word for the first time and wondering what it meant.
"Bloody hell, Slayer," Spike cursed, amazed that she could be so bitter. "I'm sorry! I walked out on you and I shouldn't have. I didn't answer your questions and I bloody well should've done that!"
Buffy tilted her head, her face the picture of innocence as she considered his words. Inside, she was raging with self-hatred.
"Something made him come back." She thought. "He wants something from me."
Spike ran his fingers through his hair and sighed in frustration. He began to pace and wished he could have another cigarette.
"Listen, Slayer, I'm really sorry...alright?" Spike asked, as he stalked back and forth looking like a caged panther. "I...I just didn't want to hurt you, ok?" He offered in explanation.
"Hurt me?" Buffy questioned, wondering what he could want from her, wondering what he would take from her this time. She had so little left to give.
"Yes, hurt you! Fucking hell, you're starting to sound like Dru. Have you lost it!?" Frustration grabbed hold of Spike and forced the words from his mouth.
"Yes." Buffy smiled sadly, ignoring the insult. "I've lost it. I've lost so many things. And some things I never even had." A tear fell from her eye, unnoticed.
Spike stopped pacing, his jaw falling open in amazement. He had compared her to Dru and she didn't react. He was still frozen in shock and didn't move as Buffy slid bonelessly to the ground, tears falling silently from her eyes.
"Go 'way, Spike." She whispered. "I don't have the strength to give you whatever it is that you want. You can hurt me later, ok? Just go 'way."
"No." Spike answered succinctly, sitting down beside Buffy and drawing her into his lap, gently stroking her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, you are." She sighed wearily. "You just don't know you're leaving yet."
Spike smiled wryly, she didn't know him very well. He never left, not without a fight. "No, Buffy." He replied. "You just don't know that I'm staying."
She didn't answer him. He glanced down to find her sleeping peacefully, cradled in his embrace.
In you I seem dirty.
In you I count the stars.
In you I feel so pretty.
In you I take scars.
In you I feel so hungry.
In you I crash cars.
We must never be apart!
Sighing in temporary contentment, Spike rested his head on Buffy's and closed his eyes. "But you'll know soon enough." He whispered, smiling.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The lyrics I (respectfully) stole belong to Korn and the Smashing Pumpkins. Although I dearly wish otherwise, only the plot belongs to me.
Notes: This is where the story descends into the chaos of a B/S story. I suppose it can be taken as a full story with only three chapters... but I got a positive revue today and so will share the rest of the tale out of desire for more.
"They never tell the truth...and they'll always leave...but not before you love them."
Shocked to his core, Spike turned and ran out of the house, barely remembering to steal a packet of blood from the fridge on the way out. His senses registered the fact that Riley was gone, although his mind nearly missed it. It had only been twenty minutes since he had left the ex-marine to comfort Buffy. Gulping down the blood, he circled the house. Tension evident in his every move, Spike began to pace outside of Buffy's bedroom window. With shaking hands, he lit a cigarette, taking in long drags whilst he frantically paced.
"I can't go back in there." He muttered feverishly as he walked. "She'll stake me for sure. But she said.... she said....no! She wasn't talking about me. She was talking about Riley, she was talking about the great Poof....she wasn't talking about me!" Confusion wracked him as he continued to pace. Soon, Spike's cigarette was nothing but a smoldering filter. He threw it to the ground and drew out another one, thankful that he had just stolen a carton and wouldn't need more for some time. He glanced up at Buffy's window when he heard loud music crash from above. Her window was open.
Ugh!
Why can't I decide, why my feelings I hide
Always screwing with my mind, a thorn in my spine
Oh Sure, it feels fine, wasting all our time
In the back of my mind, a thorn in my spine
"Good choice, luv." Spike muttered, recognizing the song, as he hoisted himself into the tree that served as the Slayer's main path to and from her house. He made himself comfortable on a thick branch, looking in on the activities in Buffy's bedroom. He watched her half dance along to the heavy music as she cleaned up the mess she had created, occasionally wiping at her eyes with bloodied hands when the tears fell again. Surprised, Spike noticed that her mirror had been punched repeatedly and there were multiple bloody-smears across the shattered glass. Buffy was picking up tiny shards of glass from her floor. Many fragile gifts had become victim to her sorrow-filled rage. Spike wondered why she would break things her friends gave her while he watched her sweep up the tiny shards and deposit them unceremoniously into the trashcan.
"Gifts from Riley." He realized aloud, thinking that only Fish-boy would gift the Slayer with useless trinkets of glass. Buffy's head snapped up and she looked out the window, red-rimmed eyes narrowed suspiciously. Spike froze, hoping the shadows covering him would be sufficient to hide him from
the Slayers gaze. Luckily, a breeze took that moment to descend upon the tree, making the branches sway and the leaves rustle. Buffy was placated by this and continued to clean up, her hands still scratched and cut, despite her swift healing ability.
Wait!
See it before my eyes
Why!
Do I run away
Looking all the time, at your face so blind
Feeling uptight, always the same fight
Hey man, now decide, go ahead take your time
Kissing all the time, that thorn in my spine.
"Is there a message here, luv?" Spike thought to himself, his confusion growing. "She wasn't talking about me!"
"No, she was talking about all the men in her life. But you were included." A little voice spoke in the back of Spike's mind.
"Shit. When did I grow a conscious?" Spike muttered, knowing that he had to speak with Buffy. She really did deserve to know the truth. It would hurt her, but she had to know. He stole himself for what would no doubt be his intimate introduction with Mr. Pointy and crept forward on the branch towards Buffy's window.
****
"Listen, Slayer..."
Why are you getting up? Why won't you look me in the eye?
"I came here to let you know about Captain America's little perversion. I did you a favor. That doesn't mean I have to play twenty-questions."
Twenty-questions? I need to know! You started this. You showed me the truth. Now tell me the rest of it!
"Figure out the how's and why's on your own."
On my own? You're...leaving? No, I won't cry. Go the hell away, then!
God, this hurts.
" I don't know what makes people do what they do. I'm a Vampire, not a
bloody psychiatrist."
You're not just a Vampire, Spike. You're more...so much more.
Slam!
Gone. He left. Walked out and shut the door behind him. Turned away from me and shut me out. Pain. This hurts so much. Why do they always leave me? Dad... Angel.... Parker.... Riley... Spike. Nobody cares enough to stay.
Why do I still have a reflection? There's obviously something missing from me. I'm not a whole person. I shouldn't reflect.
Smash.
Now I'm many, tiny people. Seven years bad luck. Oh well. How can it get worse?
"They never tell the truth!"
Smash.
Riley gave me that for our anniversary. So cheap and meaningless. A little angel. Ha. I gave him a Barbie-doll. Dressed like me, complete with cross and stakes and a G.I. Joe to keep her company. It took me a week to make those stakes. But Riley's gone now. Just like the others.
Smash. I look fractured. I feel fractured. It fits.
"And they'll always leave!"
Leave. Leave. Spike left me. I opened up to him. He was kind and gentle. I didn't want him to leave. But I'm Buffy, and so he had to go. They all have to go. It's probably in the Slayers handbook.
Smash.
Happy birthday sweet sixteen. Dad's gift arrived promptly on my birthday. Well, right day, wrong month. Mom called him to remind him. I heard her do it. He forgot, again.
Oh. I'm bleeding.
Blood.
Spike.
"Damn you Spike!"
I can't take this anymore.
"They never tell the truth."
I hurt so deep inside. How can he hurt me so?
"And they'll always leave."
Maybe he was right. Maybe I do crave death. I'll crave anything that will stop the pain.
"But not before you love them."
How long have I been crying? God, look at this place. What a mess. At least Dawn didn't wake up. I'd hate to have to explain this. Have to clean up. But first...ah, music. Mirror to my soul, echo of my thoughts. Good thing I got Faith's CD's when she went comatose. I never would've found this otherwise.
Wait!
You cannot even see your side
Why?
Play yourself out that way
Why?
You and me always hate
Wait!
Weren't you my friend?
What was that sound? Oh, a breeze. Nothing.
Ah, clean. And less memories of Riley. I got a two-for one. Feel better. Ow. Hurt. Oh, my hands. Still bleeding, but no...oh, damn. Glass splinters. This is gonna take some work.
"I can't believe I was...." the tweezers descend. "so stupid!" small tug. Damn, this hurts. "I trusted him." bigger tug. "Ouch!" got one. Small piece of mirror. A small piece of me reflects back. I glance up at the shattered mirror, empathizing. "Idiot." tug. "Human," tug "or Vampire...men are men."
yank. "Shit!"
That hurt. But I'm clean now and so is my room. Everything is perfect. Oh, new song. I guess this is a mix CD. Never heard this one before....
It's you that I adore,
You'll always be my whore.
You'll be a mother to my child
And a child to my heart.
We must never be apart.
We must never be apart.
*****
Spike paused when the sound of Buffy's mutters reached his ear. Her back was to him as she cleaned her wounds, but her voice carried over the music. His eyes grew wide in amazement as he realized that she was talking about him. Spike grew sad, knowing that he had hurt her more deeply than he imagined. She had trusted him, and he let her down. A new song came on her stereo as he continued to contemplate courses of action to express his forgiveness to Buffy and survive. Spike grinned, sensing the irony. He had listened to the same song many times, it had always made him think about Buffy and his feelings for her.
Lovely girl, you're the beauty in my world.
Without you there are no reasons left to find.
And I'll pull your crooked teeth.
You'll be perfect just like me.
You'll be a lover in my bed,
and a God to my head.
We must never be apart.
We must never be apart.
"Hell with it." Spike muttered when he noticed Buffy was listening to the song, not moving. Using every ounce of his stealth, he slipped down the tree branch and through the open window into Buffy's bedroom.
Lovely girl, you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left to die.
Drinking mercury, to the mystery,
Of all that you should ever leave behind,
In time.
He smiled, watching her sway to the music as she listened to it. Spike took a tentative step towards her and froze when she stood and began to dance. Her eyes were closed. Smiling to himself, Spike crept towards her. She turned her back to him again and he took the opportunity to embrace her swiftly, pinning her arms to her side. Her body tensed and her eyes flew open.
"I'm sorry, luv." Spike whispered, his voice rough with emotion, into Buffy's ear. Her body remained tense, hurting him although he didn't quite know why.
"Sorry?" Buffy asked, her voice dripping with loathing.
"Yes, dammit!" Spike spat out, and let Buffy go, injured that she did not believe him. "I'm sorry!"
She stepped out of his embrace swiftly and turned. Once again, he was struck by her beauty. Her gaze was cold, almost devoid of emotion, an extreme contrast to the heat he felt radiating from her. Spike was struck suddenly with the thought that he had never seen the Slayer truly possessed by hatred before. He felt himself grow hard and nearly groaned, knowing that this would be the worst time for her to notice.
"Sorry." Buffy repeated, as though hearing the word for the first time and wondering what it meant.
"Bloody hell, Slayer," Spike cursed, amazed that she could be so bitter. "I'm sorry! I walked out on you and I shouldn't have. I didn't answer your questions and I bloody well should've done that!"
Buffy tilted her head, her face the picture of innocence as she considered his words. Inside, she was raging with self-hatred.
"Something made him come back." She thought. "He wants something from me."
Spike ran his fingers through his hair and sighed in frustration. He began to pace and wished he could have another cigarette.
"Listen, Slayer, I'm really sorry...alright?" Spike asked, as he stalked back and forth looking like a caged panther. "I...I just didn't want to hurt you, ok?" He offered in explanation.
"Hurt me?" Buffy questioned, wondering what he could want from her, wondering what he would take from her this time. She had so little left to give.
"Yes, hurt you! Fucking hell, you're starting to sound like Dru. Have you lost it!?" Frustration grabbed hold of Spike and forced the words from his mouth.
"Yes." Buffy smiled sadly, ignoring the insult. "I've lost it. I've lost so many things. And some things I never even had." A tear fell from her eye, unnoticed.
Spike stopped pacing, his jaw falling open in amazement. He had compared her to Dru and she didn't react. He was still frozen in shock and didn't move as Buffy slid bonelessly to the ground, tears falling silently from her eyes.
"Go 'way, Spike." She whispered. "I don't have the strength to give you whatever it is that you want. You can hurt me later, ok? Just go 'way."
"No." Spike answered succinctly, sitting down beside Buffy and drawing her into his lap, gently stroking her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, you are." She sighed wearily. "You just don't know you're leaving yet."
Spike smiled wryly, she didn't know him very well. He never left, not without a fight. "No, Buffy." He replied. "You just don't know that I'm staying."
She didn't answer him. He glanced down to find her sleeping peacefully, cradled in his embrace.
In you I seem dirty.
In you I count the stars.
In you I feel so pretty.
In you I take scars.
In you I feel so hungry.
In you I crash cars.
We must never be apart!
Sighing in temporary contentment, Spike rested his head on Buffy's and closed his eyes. "But you'll know soon enough." He whispered, smiling.